


His Heart’s Desire

by Writcraft



Series: Fragile Hearts Series [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Light Angst, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 17:12:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6713725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writcraft/pseuds/Writcraft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Severus returns from a week away, Harry realises just how much he’s missed him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Heart’s Desire

**Author's Note:**

> A one shot set in the [Fragile Hearts](http://archiveofourown.org/series/406462) universe, from Harry’s point of view. Aspects will probably make more sense in the context of The Beating of This Fragile Heart, but can hopefully also be enjoyed as a standalone established relationship story.

Harry’s papers cover the desk in unruly piles. He shuffles them into some semblance of order, pulling a face at a file marked as urgent. He checks the cuckoo clock in his office, watching his friends’ hands tick from _work_ to _home_ or _pub_. Ron and Hermione’s hands move together and he can almost picture them wandering home together, hand in hand.

He slides open his drawer and takes out a photo, staring at the one picture of Severus he managed to take with an old Muggle camera of Dudley’s. He looks stern but fond, as Severus often does these days. Harry runs his fingers over Severus’ face and he sighs, leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling. He’s a fucking idiot. He really is. He’s going to be in so much trouble for sneaking around. It goes against everything he stands for and the last thing he wants is to hide away from the people he loves the most. He looks at the photo of Severus again and an icy chill grips his heart. The coldness fades as warmth and the slow flames of arousal flare in his belly.

“He’s right, you know. You’re a sentimental, Gryffindor twit.” Harry sticks his tongue out at the photograph and puts it back in his drawer, adding a concealment charm for good measure. Dawlish likes to snoop and Harry wouldn’t put it past him to leak the fact Harry Potter has a picture of Severus Snape in his office. He scratches idly at his skin, his palms sweating a little and he bites back a curse. He’s barely slept for days, the nightmares gripping him with force and last night he found himself sitting up in bed with his arms around his knees, watching shadows move around the empty room. He hates being in Grimmauld Place alone and Severus has been abroad for a potions conference for far too long. If you ask Harry, a potions conference sounds like a horrible bloody way to spend time.

Harry clenches his hands into fists, dropping his head onto the table. The wood is cool against his forehead and it soothes him. He’s on edge; restless. He wants to crawl out of his skin, like he’s too big for his body which is too tight and too constricting. His thoughts are an endless muddle that begin with the war and end right here, staring at Howlers from people that want nothing more than to see Harry Potter dead. Not to mention, he hates lying to his friends. He hates lying and he’s missing Severus. He’s really missing Severus.

With another glance at the clock, Harry packs his things into a small bag. He steps into the Floo and calls out for Grimmauld Place. The dust rises on the hearth as he steps through with a cough. There’s a light flickering in the hallway. Two small candles, lit to show a clear path to the kitchen. Harry’s heart quickens and he pulls his wand from his robes. There’s no way he would have left the candles on all day, not after working late for weeks. Grimmauld Place is always dark when he comes home. Dark, cold and lonely.

He sets his face into an expression which he hopes is befitting of an Auror and war hero, grim and determined. He’s not told Severus anything about the threat from a new rogue group of Purebloods gathering in America to continue what Voldemort started. He knows he should, but he also doesn’t want to risk Severus putting himself in harm’s way again. He won’t lose Severus now, not after everything. Not when they’re just getting started. He advances along the hall while the paintings scream at him for being a traitor to the Death Eater cause. He really needs to do something about those. They drive him mental. He jabs his wand into the air and keeps his voice steady. 

“Show yourself. One spell and the Aurors will be here in seconds.”

“Is that so?” Severus comes into focus, leaning against the kitchen door. His sleeves are rolled up to the elbow and his trousers are fitted in all the right places. He looks better than ever and _fuck_ it feels like so long since Harry’s seen him. Has it really only been five nights? “Call the Aurors if you wish, but that would rather spoil my plans. I’m afraid I’ve only cooked enough for two.”

“You cooked?” Harry slides out of his robes, sending them to the cupboard with a muttered spell and a flick of his wand. He can already feel the bright, happy smile spreading across his face and a burst of laughter bubbles within him, breaking free as he stares at Severus. “And you’re back early. I thought the conference finished on Saturday. I wasn’t expecting you.”

“The surprise is not unwelcome, I hope?” Severus studies Harry, his expression carefully neutral but Harry can see the flicker of uncertainty behind his eyes.

“Hardly.” Harry moves swiftly towards Severus and presses into his arms, burying his face in his neck and breathing him in. “Fuck, I’ve missed you.” He knows he probably sounds melodramatic and he’s about five seconds away from being called foolish, but he can’t bring himself to care. He’s so tired and his skin still itches and burns. Severus is cool and he smells familiar – like woody cologne and potions. 

“It’s been less than a week.” Severus’ voice is gruffer than usual and his fingers toy with Harry’s hair. It’s achingly familiar and Harry melts against Severus’ chest. Severus’ voice dips and he murmurs in Harry’s ear. “Nevertheless, I missed you too.”

“’Course you did.” Harry smiles against Severus’ cotton shirt, rubbing his cheek against it. God, it’s _good_ to be back here in warm arms with candles lighting up the place. 

“Harry?” Severus pulls back and tips Harry’s chin, looking into his eyes. There’s no further question, because there doesn’t need to be. Harry’s knows his eyes are framed with dark shadows and the stubble from two days ago is rough and spiky on his chin and cheeks. He’s not eaten as much as he should and there’s a translucency to his skin, a pallor caused by not enough sleep and too many bad dreams. He knows because his mirror told him just this morning that he looked like shit. He’s got to do something about that, too. Talking mirrors are far too sassy for their own good.

“Just some bad dreams, it’s nothing.” Harry pulls away, hesitant.

“Is that so?” Severus sweeps dark eyes over the length of Harry’s body. It’s sends a jolt of desire through Harry which he can almost feel in his bones. “Do you need to rest before supper?”

“Not exactly.” Harry pulls a face, looking at a spot where the wallpaper is singed after being caught by a stray spell a long time ago. That’s the trouble with Grimmauld Place. There’s always something to remind him of the war and the people who kept the house full and bustling before him. There’s always the light scent of whisky and the memory of Sirius and Remus with their heads bowed together, laughing at something. “I’ll sleep better now it’s the weekend. I can have a lie in tomorrow. Besides, you’re here and I always sleep well when you’re here. You’re staying, aren’t you?” Harry tries to keep the note of desperation out of his voice. 

“That was part of my plan.” Severus nudges Harry into the kitchen, his hand warm and large on the base of Harry’s spine. It’s like coming home. Harry wonders sometimes if Severus has any idea how gone Harry is for him. 

Harry can practically feel Severus’ eyes boring into the back of his head and he takes a seat, playing with a napkin. The table’s set for two, with candles and a bottle of Severus’ favourite red. Harry bites his lip and fights back a smile because Severus really can be surprisingly romantic at times. 

“What’s for supper, then? It smells great.” There’s a hollowness still to Harry’s voice and his nails scratch, scratch against his skin. He shifts in place and he wants to bring Severus close – to sit as near to Harry as possible. He doesn’t want to be all the way across the table right now but he can’t bring himself to say as much because he knows how it sounds. It’s clingy and needy, all of the things that could send a man like Severus running for the hills. The last thing Harry wants to be is a child around Severus. He loves the way they talk and flirt and fuck like equals in every way. He doesn’t want to start upsetting that because of a few bad nights. He’s still scared to let Severus see the full heart of him, burst open and easily bruised.

“Supper will keep. It has a while to go yet, I wasn’t sure when you’d be back.” Severus stands and brushes his hand to the nape of Harry’s neck. The touch sends a shiver of pleasure through Harry. “I thought we might go to bed first.”

Severus leaves the kitchen and with a muttered curse, Harry follows. Severus knows. He always knows when Harry’s being evasive, mainly because he’s really crap at lying. He flicks on the candles which light the way upstairs and cast a golden hue around his room. He flicks his wand again to light the fire to take the chill off, closing the curtains and eventually crawling onto the bed when Severus reaches for him. 

“Hi.” Harry presses close to Severus, breathing him in and basking in the warmth from the fire and Severus’ touch.

“Hello.” Severus’ lips quirk into a smile and then he tugs Harry over until he’s straddling Severus. He rubs his thumb over Harry’s lower lip and stares intently at Harry as if he’s a puzzle than needs to be worked out, or a particularly tricky potion that needs every ounce of concentration. It’s _perfect_ but it also means Harry’s looking straight into Severus’ face and unless he spends the night with his head buried in Severus’ neck, he’s not going to be able to avoid telling Severus everything. He suspects Severus knows that. Bloody Slytherins.

“You’re not going to do Legilimency, are you?” Harry lets out a nervous laugh which makes it seem less jokey than he would have liked.

“Is there a reason I might need to?” Severus wraps an arm around Harry, a strong hand on Harry’s waist. It makes Harry think of Severus’ fingers and the way he sometimes pushes them deep inside Harry until he falls apart in a shuddering, trembling mess. He’s always a bit embarrassed by the way Severus can make him come apart, but he’s getting over it as he realises Severus really does seem to like it. A lot.

“Nope.” Harry shifts in Severus’ lap and averts his eyes for a moment before looking back at Severus with a sigh. “You remember when I had those nightmares?”

“Yes.” Severus doesn’t elaborate or try to guess where Harry’s going. Instead he slips his hands up and down Harry’s back to the base of his spine. It’s casual enough that Harry can almost believe Severus is oblivious to how distracting that is. “I remember.”

“It’s been one of those days. One of those weeks, really. I feel a bit…out of sorts.”

“I see.” Severus places a light kiss on Harry’s jaw, before pulling back. “What do you need?”

“I can’t…” The words choke Harry and he shakes his head, trying to clear his mind. It’s difficult with Severus so close and his body responding already to the proximity. “I mean, I don’t know.”

“You don’t know, or you don’t wish to say it out loud?” Severus runs his fingers down Harry’s stomach. Too late, Harry remembers he’s wearing a stupid t-shirt Charlie gave him for a joke. It’s got a big picture of a rainbow coloured unicorn and a hole in the sleeve. It didn’t seem to matter much when he was in his robes all day and coming home to an empty house. He’s not sure why he’s only just remembered.

“Bit of both, I suppose. Sorry about the t-shirt.”

Severus raises an eyebrow and he fixes his gaze on Harry, his fingers now stroking over Harry’s thigh. “There’s no need to apologise on my account. I tend not to choose my partners based on their fashion sense. Does this get worn often?”

“Only when I’m too knackered to do any washing and I don’t expect anyone to be around to see it.” Harry’s breath hitches and he lets out a huff of laughter, shaking his head as he closes his eyes for a moment. “ _Severus_.”

“Hmm?”

“If you want me to talk you’re going to need to stop doing that. I can’t think. I feel like my brain’s going to slide out of my ears.”

“Well, perhaps that wouldn’t be a bad thing.” Severus smirks against Harry’s skin as he brushes his lips to the base of Harry’s throat. “It seems as though you need a little…distracting.” Nevertheless, Severus stops his movements and sits back against the headboard, placing his arms behind his head. “Better?”

“Humph.” Harry isn’t sure it _is_ better because now he’s horny and he wants Severus to fuck him into the mattress or suck him and finger him until he’s boneless and sated. “I suppose.” He wriggles a bit, sure Severus can’t be completely made of stone and he’s pleased when Severus stills him with a growl, his eyes dark.

“ _Harry_.” Severus keeps his hand in place even after Harry stops squirming, almost as if he just wants to be touching Harry. “Talk to me.”

Harry nods, heat rising in his cheeks. His stomach twists and he scratches at his arm, looking down at Severus’ hand on his thigh and trying to think how to formulate his jumbled thoughts into a sentence which might make sense to anyone other than himself. “I feel restless. I’ve not slept much, like I said.” The heat in his cheeks intensifies and he can almost imagine being back at Hogwarts again with Severus looking at him with scepticism as if he’s just a ridiculous child that doesn’t know anything. His stomach rolls and he swallows around the lump in his throat, barely able to look Severus in the eyes.

“Just bloody well do something, will you? I don’t want to _talk_.” It comes out more snappish than Harry intended and he digs his fingernails into his arm, keeping his lips pressed in a firm line so he doesn’t start shouting at Severus – not even sure why he has the urge to fight when he hasn’t seen Severus for a week and he’s missed him, so, so much.

“Is that so?” Something flares in Severus’ gaze, his eyes darkening. He moves both of his hands to Harry’s waist, gripping tight. 

“I already said so, didn’t I?” The tingling on Harry’s skin intensifies and his heart beats so loudly he can almost feel it trying to pound out of his chest. “I just want you to fuck me or something.” His voice is angrier now, raised and petulant. He sucks in a breath and looks at Severus who continues to give him that same, unfathomable stare. He swallows again and hopes the desperation doesn’t sound as obvious to Severus as it does to Harry’s ears. “ _Please_.”

Instead of responding with words, Severus moves Harry’s hands roughly behind his back, holding them in place at the wrists. The motion makes Harry’s heart rate spike and his breath hitch. He tugs lightly but Severus has him firmly in hand.

“Harry,” Severus says again. The way he says Harry’s name sends a shiver through the length of Harry’s body. It’s raw, urgent and rich. “I’ll give you what you want, but you have to promise to be a good boy for me. Can you do that?” He emphasises his words with a squeeze to Harry’s wrists.

 _Fuck_. Simple sentences shouldn’t have such an impact, but they do. There’s just something about hearing those words from Severus which make Harry’s whole body hot and sensitised. It’s like someone’s cast _Lumos_ in his brain and all the things he didn’t even know he needed come rushing to the surface on the crest of a wave. He suddenly desperately wants to be good for Severus. He wants Severus to be pleased with him – to be proud of Harry.

“Yeah.” Harry nods, his eyes closing as he wriggles in Severus’ lap. “Yeah, I’ll be good for you. I’ll try to be.”

“Of course you will.” Severus’ voice is nearly a purr and his free hand strokes upwards, pushing Harry’s t-shirt up and stroking his fingers over the sensitive skin as Harry’s belly clenches beneath them. He releases Harry’s hands and he can’t help but whine at the loss of being held in place. “Hush, now. You’re being good, remember?” Severus nips at Harry’s neck and slides his t-shirt up. “Off.”

Harry breathes out, ragged and hot and he nods. He tugs off his t-shirt and Severus rubs his palm over Harry’s cock which is hard and uncomfortable, trapped in the thick confines of his jeans. Severus squeezes once, hard and then nudges Harry off his lap after unbuckling Harry’s belt. 

“Now these.” There’s a note of command in Severus’ voice which sends another shiver through Harry. He pulls off his jeans and boxers until he’s kneeling on the bed before Severus, shivering a little despite the heat of the fire warming his back.

“Better?” There’s a tremor in Harry’s voice and Severus rakes his gaze over the full length of Harry’s body.

“Oh yes.” Severus reaches out to Harry and tugs him back down until he’s stretched out on the bed with Severus above him. Somehow he just knows not to leave Harry naked and vulnerable. He understands that Harry needs to see him – needs to feel skin against skin. “ _Much_ better.” Severus runs his fingers along Harry’s arm and presses into him, the rough material of his trousers and the hard line of his cock pressing against Harry’s thigh. “Okay?” 

“Okay.” Harry breathes out and watches as Severus slips out of his shirt, leaving his trousers on. He doesn’t take his eyes off Harry and murmurs a spell which sends light sparks of pleasure along the length of Harry’s body, from his collarbone to his cock. It’s like being stroked slowly by light fingers, pressing into his skin. It bathes Harry in warmth and he sighs into it, already aching hard and sensitised. Severus’ magic is so strong and it wraps around Harry like a blanket. He lets out a low huff of laughter. “They don’t teach us that at Hogwarts.”

Severus’ lips twitch and he shakes his head. “Indeed they don’t.” He brushes his lips against Harry’s ear. “What colour can you see?”

“Yellow,” Harry breathes. Yellow for sunshine. Yellow for _Lumos_. Yellow for the light that burns at the edges of the stars and Harry’s Patronus. Yellow is for _yes, please, it’s okay_. Green is stop. Green is _Avada Kedavra_ and _Morsmorde_. 

“Good boy.” 

“Yeah.” Harry’s voice cracks and trembles with need. There it is again. The ache. The desire to be so good for Severus. He wants to be praised, to hear Severus tell him he’ll take care of Harry – just this once. He wants it so much he thinks he might burst with it. The itch returns and it crawls over his skin, sending a deep heat into Harry’s cheeks. He squirms back onto the bed and then - _oh_ -

Severus kisses him. He kisses Harry as he does sometimes when they’ve missed each other or spent too many nights apart. He kisses Harry with deep, rough urgency. The gentleness fades away and it’s Severus’ hands on Harry’s skin, every slide of his fingers leaving hot sparks along Harry’s torso and down to his belly. The itching recedes as Severus kisses Harry, hard. He nips at Harry's jawline and then strokes his cock with a long, slow tug. When did Severus slick his hand? 

“Do you want me to look after you, Harry?” Severus’ voice is low and firm. He settles between Harry’s legs and murmurs against his skin, flicking his tongue over Harry’s collarbone as if he wants to taste the perspiration gathered there. 

“Yeah…I…yes, please.” Harry’s cheeks are flaming now, his body hot from his neck upwards. It hurts to say it when he feels like he’s spent so long just wanting Severus to see he doesn’t need looking after. Not now. He doesn’t need to be saved anymore. Does he?

“Breathe, Harry.” Severus brushes his lips to Harry’s jaw and he rubs his slick fingers along the crease of Harry’s backside. “Just breathe, there's a good boy.”

Harry sucks in a breath and nods, losing himself in another deep, warm kiss. Severus knows how to use his tongue – his lips – in a way which travels the full length of Harry’s body. Each kiss sends warmth sliding through Harry’s veins like treacle. Each stroke of Severus’ tongue against his own is something Harry can feel right down to the tips of his toes. Harry whimpers into the kiss as Severus fucks him slowly with one finger, pleas falling from Harry's lips. A second joins the first and it’s all tongue, breathlessness and maddening sensations which make Harry want to crawl under the duvets and lose himself in Severus. He never wants to come up for air.

“Been…been good all week.” 

“I’m sure you have.” Severus pushes another finger into Harry as if it’s a reward. “I’m going to make you feel good. My good boy.”

It’s impossible to stay still when Severus says that, possessive and rough. _My_ good boy. Harry can’t help but let the _yours_ fall from his lips on a faltering breath. He wonders if Severus finds this strange, telling Harry how good he is when Severus has always had things to say about the way Harry does things. He wonders if he needs this from Severus more because of their history or if this is just something he needs now, after nights without sleeping and days trying to forget the things he lost in the war.

“I am, you know. Yours.” 

“ _Harry_.” The name leaves Severus’ lips with such force and it takes Harry a moment to realise he said that out loud. 

A low murmur of something which sounds like _need_ and _want_ falls from Harry's lips. He gulps in air and Severus kisses his neck, biting him and sucking on a spot which is particularly sensitive. There’s going to be a mark in the morning. Something Harry can touch. Something his stupid mirror can comment on and something he can run his fingers against when he’s opening his Howlers and trying his best with mountains of paperwork. 

God, he really has missed Severus. He’s completely daft for him. Head over fucking heels and there’s no going back now. He’s drunk on Severus’ kisses and pliant and eager with every slow stroke of fingers against the spot that makes him tremble until he has to curl his toes into the sheets and hiss low in his throat, pushing back on Severus’ hand. 

“Please…more…will you?”

Severus slides his fingers from Harry and vanishes his clothes with another snap of magic. His words take on a new cadence, rough and harsh with need and desire. Harry loves it when Severus loses himself in the moment. It’s so rare to see Severus come apart and Harry thinks he likes that more than anything. He likes Severus being unable to stop the slow, rough whispers of affection which fall from his lips as he palms over Harry’s cock and trails hot, damp kisses over Harry’s skin. He settles over Harry and the blunt head of his cock nudges against Harry’s backside. Severus slips into the crack between his buttocks and _pushes_.

Harry arches up when Severus slides in, his gasp falling from his lips in the quiet room. It’s too quiet. He needs to hear Severus speak again, to tether them both in this moment. Severus’ voice does things to Harry’s body. He’s going to have to ask Severus to Fire Call him from his next conference just so Harry can remember the way he says Harry’s name and let that pulse around him when night falls, instead of the darkness and the shadows. 

“Such a good boy.” Severus’ voice is rough and jagged, his pleasure settling in his harsh syllables as he breathes out in Harry’s ear. “Taking my cock so well. So good for me. Have you been waiting, like I asked?”

“I have.” He _has_. Harry hasn’t so much as wanked in the shower, waiting for Severus to come back. They talked about this, briefly. About Harry being good, about the way it would feel after holding back for days. Harry slides his hands into Severus’ hair and stares at him until he thinks he might crumble apart just from looking at Severus. “I waited. Missed you. Missed you so bloody much.”

“Then let me...” Severus trails off as if the words are painful to say out loud. He tugs Harry’s bottom lip between his teeth before giving him another scorching kiss. He strokes Harry’s cock as he fucks into him, his movements deep and long. 

“What?” Harry’s desperate to hear it, his body teetering on the brink. There’s a cliff and there’s a crashing ocean and he wants to spread his arms and let himself fall. His heart pounds in his chest and perspiration dots his skin, Severus’ still slick fingers hot and warm on his chest and stomach.

“Let me look after you.” Severus is gruff and the words leave him with another hard thrust of his cock deep inside Harry. The words send a shudder of pleasure through Harry and he pushes up with a curse, thrusting himself harder into Severus’ fist and back down onto his cock. The words seem to make something snap in both of them. Severus’ kisses become delicious, biting things and every part of Harry zings with pleasure as if Severus has sent pulses of magic through Harry’s limbs into his veins and his bones. He cries out when his orgasm finally crashes over him in a wave, pulsing and slick between them both. Severus groans and tugs Harry’s hands over his head, pinning him down and pushing faster into him until it’s too much – too sensitive. With a low murmur of Harry’s name, Severus comes and releases Harry’s hands.

They lie there in the silence, breath mingling in the still evening.

Harry closes his eyes and for the first time since Severus went away he falls into a deep, dreamless sleep.

*

It’s morning when Harry finally surfaces, warm and sated. The bed’s empty, but Harry can smell coffee and hears movement from downstairs. He pulls on his jogging bottoms and makes his way downstairs, leaning in the doorway and watching Severus read the paper with a fresh cup of coffee by his side. The sight sends his heart fluttering and warmth pools in his stomach. He clears his throat and Severus looks up.

“My mirror didn’t tell me I look pants today and I have you to thank for that. Is there a way to stop those things talking?” Harry settles next to Severus and presses a kiss to his cheek. He smells shower-fresh and spicy. 

“I would suggest simply replacing it with a Muggle one.” Severus folds the paper and brushes Harry’s hair back from his forehead. It makes Harry lean into the touch and push closer for a slow, coffee-flavoured kiss. “You’re feeling better?”

“Yeah.” Heat rises in Harry’s cheeks as Severus’ fingers linger on the mark Harry can still feel on his neck. The mirror had some comments to make on that, too. “Much. I ruined your plans, though.”

Severus snorts and he leans back, his gaze flicking over Harry. “If that’s your idea of spoiling my plans, feel free to do so more often.” He gestures vaguely towards the kitchen, his eyes still on Harry. “The food will keep for tonight.”

“Will you stay today?” Harry holds his breath. It’s so rare they have these moments where one of them isn’t off doing something or going out where they can’t be seen together. “I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

“Neither do I.” Severus slides a hand into Harry’s hair and shifts his chair back, urging Harry closer until he’s in Severus’ lap. Harry’s already warm and half-hard in his loose jogging bottoms when Severus strokes long fingers over his stomach. “You may be interested to know I do have other plans that don’t involve slaving over a hot stove.”

“Really?” Harry tips his head to one side, biting back a groan when Severus’ fingers dip just below the waistband of his trousers. “I like the sound of that.” He pauses and he holds on to Severus’ shoulders, pressing close for another slow kiss before pulling back. “I’m sorry about last night. I won’t make that a regular thing. It was just something I needed. I didn’t even know what I wanted until we started.”

“Did it appear as though I wasn’t enjoying myself?” Severus arches an eyebrow at Harry, studying him closely. “Despite indications to the contrary I am perfectly capable of taking care of you once in a while.”

Harry grins at Severus and he nods, sliding to his knees and enjoying the way Severus’ eyes darken and his breathing gets a little rougher.

“Me too. I can look after you too, I mean.”

Severus twists his hand in Harry’s hair and lets out a low hum of appreciation. He leans back in his seat, his legs parting as Harry toys with his buckle.

“I’m very glad to hear it, Potter. Far be it from me to stop you from doing something you want. It never proved terribly effective in the past.”

Harry snorts with laughter and nuzzles into Severus’ crotch, earning himself a low growl and another light twist to his hair. Harry shivers with pleasure and works open Severus’ trousers.

The sun shines through the window, golden and bright. It’s a new day and everything is light. With his heart beating in his chest, Harry focuses on watching Severus and showing him again just how much he’s missed him.

_~Fin~_


End file.
